


Safeguard

by Kestrealbird



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: ADHD Prompto, Autistic Prompto, Gen, Neurodiversity, Prejudice, Protective Family, big bro gladio, casual affection, get rekt, it isnt outright said but yeah, mentioned Claustrophobia, referenced past panic attack, you can pry these headcanons from my cold dead claws
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 03:30:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13755378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrealbird/pseuds/Kestrealbird
Summary: Gladio sees the way that people look at Prompto. His only regret is that he didn't knock that bitch's teeth out when he punched her.





	Safeguard

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone order some protective Big Bro Gladio with a side of Neurodivergent Prompto? No? Well too bad I'm doing it anyway. Prompto's behaviour patterns here are based on my own and that includes the claustrophobia and his first response to going inside this tavern. I've never really written from Gladio's POV before so I have no idea how good this is but I hope you enjoy it anyway

Gladio isn’t a fool. He knows how people look at them - or, more accurately, how they look at  _ Prompto _ \- and it makes him grind his teeth and steel his shoulders, always prepared for a fight because it’s wrong of them to judge like this.

It doesn’t stop them from trying their bullshit though. He’s seen the way they look at Prompto, after they’ve raked their eyes over Ignis, Noctis and himself; at best Prompto will get a disapproving look, but at worst they’ll outright  _ sneer _ at him. It hurts to remember that Prompto is used to this and simply shrugs off those looks and sneers as if they simply don't matter anymore.

But it does matter. No matter how much he tries to hide it, Gladio knows the constant sneers and disapproving looks affect him, because sometimes he’ll simply stop talking and subtlety step back behind Ignis, or bump shoulders with Noct or duck into Gladio’s space, eyes unsure and almost fearful.

Prompto doesn't come from the same nobility that they do, and it’s easy enough for them to forget because his presence is simply part of what makes up their little family, but it’s easy for outsiders to look at them, to feel the regal air that leaks off of them like a second skin, and  _ know _ that Prompto isn't like them. His foreign looks do little to help matter, and more than once Gladio has cursed the rampant prejudice that Lucis holds inside itself.

Usually people aren't dumb enough to try anything while they’re together. Usually people know to keep their mouths shut and avoid any trouble.

Today ends with Gladio punching someone in the face, and he doesn’t even feel the slightest twinge of guilt or regret, only irritation that he didn’t manage to knock their teeth out.

~~~~

The tavern they’re staying in is pretty average - not run-down but definitely not the best of places to be. The inside has all of seven tables and the bar has seen far better days, but it’s better to be stuck in here than in the storm outside. Noct’s injury plays up during bad weather, so they’d hunkered into here, taking a table in one of the corners so that Noct could stretch out on one of the benches, using Ignis’ lap as a pillow and sighing when fingers massage his temples out of habit instead of necessity. Ignis doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

The food looks dodgy, as if it might knock you out from smell alone, and they quickly decide to stave off their hunger for later, when Ignis can free himself of Noct (re: finally work up the nerve to move him and not feel guilty about it) and go get them something from the car. The booze is nice enough, at least. It’s not the best he’s ever had and there’s a certain salty taste to it that can’t be  _ normal _ , but it’s decent enough and it doesn't make him want to vomit the moment it hits his tongue, so he takes his wins where he can.

Prompto is tapping his foot against the floor - a simple, calming rhythm that resembles the beat from some song or other though the name of it escapes him at the moment. They’re all tired, so conversation is muted, and Ignis only speaks up to stop Prompto’s mind from wandering too far.

He does that, sometimes, if they’re not careful. He can’t sit still at the best of times, and if he isn’t occupied with something his mind will wander, and usually it isn’t anything bad, but they’d rather he didn’t dive into parts of his mind that they all know will hurt him, so they tend to get his attention early on just in case. There aren’t many people in here yet Prompto is restless; his foot is tapping out a faster rhythm now and his eyes are trying to find something to focus on. 

Gladio knows why, of course, and he can’t blame Prompto, really. The moment they’d stepped in here Prompto had murmured that the place felt  _ bad _ , and he’d brought his bandana over his face to block out all the smells that had attacked his senses. He’s feeling claustrophobic in here. He always does the first time they go into a building after being outside for days on end, so Gladio isn’t really surprised when he hops out of his seat and starts skipping around the tavern.

The barkeep raises a brow at his behaviour but shrugs it off and ignores him for the most part. When Prompto asks her a question or two, she looks up and answers him, and even from this distance Gladio can see the amusement in her face when Prompto’s eyes light up at her answers.

He comes back to their table after a few minutes, bumping Ignis’ shoulder so he doesn't fall asleep, and then dramatically drapes himself against Gladio’s side, whatever energy he’d had seemingly gone for the moment. A woman walks up to their table, eyes hard and scrutinizing. Prompto flinches as she approaches, curling into a ball away from her. 

Ignis straightens in his seat, and Noct opens one eye to lazily watch her approach. Gladio puts an arm around Prompto’s shoulders, placing his empty tankard back onto the table, body poised for a fight.

Maybe she’s just an intimidating woman, he thinks, and almost snorts at the idea of their lives being that easy. 

Her eyes immediately land on Prompto when she gets to their table, and she doesn’t even try to hide her sneer of distaste. A soft sigh escapes Prompto’s mouth, and Gladio knows that he’s smiling behind the bandana. It’s small and self-deprecating, but it’s a smile all the same. Prompto is so used to this that it makes Gladio’s stomach turn with anger. 

“You’re new around here,” she says, “so let me give you some advice. People like  _ him _ -” Prompto flinches back, curling further against Gladio as if to hide himself “-are a burden. You’d have better chances if you left him in Lestallum and continued on your way.”

Gladio vaguely recognizes her; he’s seen her around, here and there, and it occurs to him that she was there when Prompto had panicked in the mines, a mix of claustrophobia and anxiety bursting forth and making him fall back to one of the bigger tunnels with Ignis. The fact that he’d gotten so far down to begin with was impressive.

“Mm,” Gladio hums, “see you’re implying that he  _ isn’t  _ the best shot with a gun out of all of us, so, you know, I don’t think he’s much of a burden when he can shoot down a bird that keeps moving in front of the sun with a bullet right between its eyes.” 

Her jaw tenses, expression going stiff for a moment before she makes herself smile far too sweetly for anyone’s tastes. “It must be hard for you though,” she whispers. Prompto freezes, a quiet noise of fear slipping from his mouth. Gladio knows what she’s going to say because he’s heard it all from Prompto’s own mouth more times than he can count, and if she thinks that their friendship is shallow enough that they aren’t willing to help each other’s mental health than she’s even dumber than she looks.

Gladio doesn't give her a chance to finish the sentence before he decks her in the face, sending her reeling onto the ground as her nose gushes blood. She looks afraid.  _ Good _ , he thinks, and the only reason he doesn't swing at her again is because Prompto jumps up and stands between them, reminding Gladio that they can’t get kicked out while the storm is still ongoing. 

He snarls down at her anyway, then turns and leads Prompto up the stairs to their rooms. He hears the sound of someone’s boots hitting the woman and Noct’s voice floats up with a dull, “oops. My bad.”

“Unnecessary,” Prompto mutters. “She wasn't worth the effort.”

Gladio ruffles his hair. “No she wasn't’. But you were.” He grins at the blush on Prompto’s cheeks, and when they enter their room for the night he takes up the best bed immediately, just to hear Noctis complain before he drags the prince down to share it with him. 

Ignis falls asleep the moment his head hits the pillow, limbs clinging to Prompto like a marlboro or something, and in the darkness, just before Gladio gets pulled into sleep himself, he hears a very quiet “thank you.”


End file.
